


I'll Be Needing Stitches

by DeceitfulHonesty



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Doctor AU, Emergency Room Doctor, F/F, F/M, Parkour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceitfulHonesty/pseuds/DeceitfulHonesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma is an emergency room doctor who is convinced that nothing can phase her anymore. Then an accident-prone parkour enthusiast crashes into her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Needing Stitches

It was a rather slow day in the emergency room today. Jemma supposed that was probably good, but it led to her meandering around the floor, searching for something to do for most of her shift. At this point, her only option was to wander back to the lobby and attempt to make awkward conversation with the receptionist, May, who Jemma got the distinct impression could snap her neck if she really wanted to. Thankfully, Jemma was spared this fate by the sound of voices she didn’t recognize coming from the lobby. For better or worse, she finally had something to do.

  
“Date of last menstrual period?” an accented male voice asked.

  
“Oh, come on. Why do they need to know that?” a female voice snapped back.

  
“I’ll put ‘in progress’ then.”

  
Jemma heard a dull thud.

  
“Ow! I thought your arm was broken,” the man responded.

  
“I’m right-handed, dumbass. Next question.”

  
“Then, why am I filling this out?”

  
Jemma probably should save the couple from their bickering. She rounded the corner and saw only two people in the ER lobby, a blondish man with the hospital’s clipboard and a pen in his hands and woman with short, dark hair who was cradling her left arm in her lap. They were both wearing similar solid black outfits and Jemma sincerely hoped this wasn’t another failed burglary situation; they had an incident awhile back where they had to get the police involved and it was quite a hassle that Jemma would rather not repeat.   
Still, she had to stay professional, so Jemma squared her shoulders, put on her ‘work face,’ and stepped towards the couple.

  
“If you two are almost ready, we can get you set up in a room,” she stated. The woman hopped out of her seat and the man hauled himself up, Jemma gestured for them to follow her.

  
May looked up from her computer as they passed, “Paperwork,” she demanded.

  
The man reluctantly passed the clipboard over the counter, “I did my best, mate.”

  
May rolled her eyes at whatever was on the forms, before quickly making a copy and passing it to Jemma. Jemma led the way to one of the empty rooms, giving Bobbi a quick smile as they passed her in the hall.

  
Daisy Johnson, read the name on the form. Pretty name for a pretty face. Whoa, Jemma, professionalism. Most of the boxes on the information sheet were left blank, which Jemma thought strange. The man, who Jemma originally assumed was Daisy’s boyfriend, seemed to have emphatically scratched the ‘single’ box on the marital status question, though.

  
Jemma got the pair settled into a room and punched Daisy’s limited information into the computer before addressing her.

  
“My name is Jemma Simmons and I’ll be supervising your care today. You’re obviously here for a forearm injury. We’ll likely have to take an X-ray to see if it’s broken or just a sprain. Do I even want to know how it happened?” Jemma asked. Just don’t say a burglary please, she thought.

  
“A complete failure of parkour.”

  
“A small child got in the way—”

  
“There was no way you were going to land that trick anyway, love.”

  
“I totally was, Hunter, you just didn’t warn me that there was a kid—”

  
Jemma held up a hand to stop them both, “Start over. What is parkour and what does it have to do with small children?”

  
“I’ve got the whole thing on video if you want to see it,” the man, Hunter, offered.

  
Daisy huffed as Hunter pulled out his phone and tapped to load up a video. Jemma leaned over him to watch. They appeared to be at a playground that was mostly empty. Daisy popped her head in the frame and gave the camera a quick thumbs up before running up the slide, kicking off the metal bar at the top and pulling herself onto the plastic roof of the jungle gym. The camera followed her as she ran along the top of the metal playground equipment until she reached the end and did a flip off the edge, somersaulting to break her fall as she hit the ground. Jemma had a feeling Daisy would have been better off stopping there.

  
Of course she didn’t, though, or else she wouldn’t be in the emergency room right now. The video showed Daisy run towards the concrete staircase at the end of the playground and hop onto the handrail running down the middle. She kept running along the handrail and appeared to be preparing to do another flip, before a small toddler ran into what would have been Daisy’s landing spot. From behind the camera, Hunter said, “Uh oh,” before he zoomed in on Daisy throwing her weight backwards and attempting to catch herself on the handrail, but ultimately slipping off the rail and crashing into the concrete stairs below. Jemma swore she heard a sickening crack as Daisy hit the ground.

  
Jemma flinched backwards from the video.

  
Daisy flicked Hunter in the back of the head, “See? No warning. You could have said literally anything.”

  
“I saw the kid the same time as you! What would me yelling at you have done? Caused you to fall in a different direction?” Hunter responded, “If it makes you feel any better, it already has 500 hits on Youtube.”

  
“Why would that make me feel better?”

  
Jemma did her best not to roll her eyes at the two, “I believe radiology is ready for us now, if we want to get that X-Ray done,” Jemma suggested, “Mr. Hunter, if you could wait in the lobby, I’ll send her out when she’s ready to go.”

  
“Alright, I’m leaving,” he mumbled, “Just out of curiosity, that blonde doctor we passed coming in. Is she single?”

  
Jemma frowned at him, “I’m not disclosing personal information on hospital staff to you.”

  
Hunter held his hands up in surrender while backing out of the room, “Alright, alright. I’ll just have to find out myself,” he winked and then pointed at Daisy, “You be good for the nice doctor.”

  
“If I had full use of my arms, I’d flip you off right now,” Daisy replied with a forced smile.

  
Daisy didn’t say much else as Jemma escorted her up to the radiology floor. Unfortunately, Jemma got a call that there was another patient that needed her attention, so she left Daisy there and instructed a nurse to take her back to her room when she was done.   
Luckily, the other patient only had a minor infection that could be easily taken care of with the right antibiotics, so Jemma jotted down a prescription for them and signed off on their paperwork before checking in on the rest of her floor. Jemma stopped by to pick up Daisy’s X-Rays and headed back to her room.

  
“Alright, your X-Rays are all done. How are you holding up? Did they give you anything for the pain?” Jemma asked.

  
Daisy was perched on the edge of the table, still clutching her arm. She shook her head, “At this point, I’ve blocked most of it out. I’m good.”

  
Jemma shrugged and snapped the X-Ray sheets into the light board fixed to the wall and flicked it on.

  
“You know you’re mumbling to yourself, right?” Daisy asked.

  
Jemma flushed, “Sorry, bad habit.”

  
“Don’t worry about it. It’s kind of cute.”

  
Jemma froze and did her best to focus on the images in front of her.

  
“You have a definite fracture on the distal portion of your radius. It appears to be a clean break at least, so once it’s set, it should heal quickly,” Jemma recited, “For now, we’ll do a splint to hold it in place until some of the swelling goes down and then we’ll have you come back for an actual cast.”

  
“Great. How long will that have to stay on?”

  
“About 6 to 8 weeks, depending on how fast you heal.”

  
Daisy groaned, “I’m guessing that means no parkour for awhile?”

  
“I’d strongly advise that you don’t. I’m not entirely sure what they appeal is, though. It seems like a recipe for traumatic injuries,” Jemma remarked.

  
Daisy shrugged, “It’s just fun. Plus, it looks really cool when it goes right.”

  
“And you end up in the emergency room when it goes wrong?”

  
“You got me there, doc,” Daisy conceded with a smile.

  
Jemma couldn't stop the eye roll this time, professionalism be damned, “I’ll go get some supplies for the splint.”

  
Jemma came back with all her supplies on small wheeled table. She gestured for Daisy to lay her injured arm on the table and gently ran her fingers along the rough area of the break, pressing occasionally to feel the position of the bones.

  
“Does this hurt?” Jemma asked, even though Daisy hadn’t made a sound. She glanced over and Daisy had her face scrunched up but shook her head no, “You really shouldn’t lie to your doctor,” she scolded. She looked over at the X-Rays still hanging on the wall, trying to find the exact point of the break. A bit more prodding and she finally felt it.

  
“Daisy, don’t hate me.”

  
“What?”

  
Before Daisy could process her statement, Jemma pressed her palm hard over the area of the break, snapping the bone back into place while Daisy yelled out an impressive stream of curses.

  
“Sorry about that. But, the worst is over now,” Jemma said with a smile. Daisy just looked at her with an exasperated expression. The rest of the process was simply wrapping various materials tightly around Daisy’s wrist to keep it immobile for a few days. Jemma filled the silence with chatter to keep Daisy’s mind off the pain in her arm, until she could pin the last of the bandage in place and send her back to the lobby.

  
They found Hunter in the lobby leaning over the reception desk, shamelessly flirting with Bobbi. May was glaring daggers at his arms leaning on her counter and Bobbi appeared disinterested, though, Jemma couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes would roam every time Hunter glanced away.

  
He finally pulled his attention away from Bobbi long enough to notice Daisy reenter the room and gave her a wave, before shooting her a final wink and coming over to meet them.

  
“So, we good as new then?” he asked.

  
“Not quite,” Jemma responded, “She still needs to come back for a proper cast in two or three days.”

  
“Yep, and then I get six to eight weeks on the DL,” Daisy replied, sounding rather annoyed at the prospect, “But thanks, doc.”

  
“Anytime,” Jemma replied, “May will take care of making your next appointment. Remember, after the cast gets put on, I don’t want to see you in here for at least six weeks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six weeks ended up being three. It was the middle of the night, so most of the patients were asleep, leaving Jemma to come up with something to waste time to make her twelve hour shift go by faster, when Daisy came in.

  
Jemma had seen Daisy in passing when she came back to get her actual cast put on, but she wasn’t coming to the emergency department that time so Jemma didn’t count it. This time, though, she was definitely in the emergency room.

  
Hunter came with Daisy again, acting as her crutch while she hopped on one foot, keeping her weight off her right ankle. From the brief impression Jemma had of the two of them, she pegged Hunter as the one who came up with more of the bad ideas and Daisy as the one who went through with them, which is probably why he was always escorting her to the ER.

  
She made eye contact with Daisy, who sheepishly waved at Jemma with her casted hand (she had chosen hot pink for her cast, Jemma noticed. Surprising, considering the amount of black she seemed to wear). Jemma shot her a disapproving look, but shoved off the desk she was leaning on to grab a spare wheelchair.

  
“Hunter, why don’t you stay here and finish up the paperwork while I get Daisy settled in a room,” Jemma suggested, guiding Daisy into the wheelchair.

  
“Good plan, doctor. By the way, is—”

  
“Bobbi’s off this evening,” Jemma cut him off. Hunter nodded, looking disappointed as he headed back to the rows of chairs to fill out the forms. Jemma wheeled Daisy into a room and helped her onto the flimsy bed, before pulling up her information on the computer.   
“Do I want to know how this injury occurred?” Jemma asked.

  
Daisy looked at her feet when she replied, “I fell off a two-story building.”

  
“I’m sorry, you what?”

  
“I was trying to do a jump between these two buildings and I sort of...missed the ledge,” Daisy explained.

  
Jemma just blinked at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a patient who stressed me out as much as you do. Or one who comes in as often.”

  
Daisy smirked, “Aw, I’m flattered.”

  
“Not a compliment. I just hope next time you don’t come in missing a limb,” Jemma muttered as she started taking Daisy’s vitals. She could have left this part up to the nurses like she usually did, but what else was she going to do tonight?

  
“So, should I wait on teaching myself chainsaw juggling?”

  
“Not funny. We’ve had to deal with that before.”

  
“Seriously?”

  
“Many times.”

  
Daisy’s face lit up at the idea. Jemma tried not to roll her eyes as she slid her hand up the back of Daisy’s shirt and pressed the end of her stethoscope between her shoulder blades. Daisy yelped and jerked away from the touch.

  
“Sorry, I probably should have warned you. It can be a bit cold,” Jemma apologized.

  
“Is this really necessary?” Daisy asked, her voice sounding strained, “I just twisted my ankle.”

  
“Despite being standard procedure, I’d like to make sure you didn’t somehow damage anything internally. Just breathe normally,” Jemma directed.

  
Daisy mumbled something that sounded like “yeah, that’s likely,” but Jemma ignored it to listen to her breathing. Once she deemed everything in order, Jemma punched the information into the computer.

  
The conversation tapered off as Jemma moved her attention to Daisy’s injured ankle. She gently prodded around, asking Daisy if or when she felt any discomfort, until she felt she had a solid diagnosis.

  
“It appears to be just a sprain. You’re extremely lucky that’s all you escaped with,” Jemma remarked.

  
Daisy shrugged, “Or I’m just really good at falling off things.”

  
“I won’t dignify that with a response. We’ll wrap up your ankle to keep it stable and I recommend you get a pair of crutches to keep your weight off it. And I’m serious this time, no jumping off buildings for at least four weeks. You now have a broken wrist and a sprained ankle that need to heal, and if you don’t let them, they could heal improperly and cause long term problems for you,” Jemma lectured.

  
Daisy raised her hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’ll sit on my butt and watch Netflix for a month and do nothing else. Scout’s honor, Doctor Simmons.”

  
Jemma somehow doubted Daisy was ever a Girl Scout. “I’ll go get the things for your ankle.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to her word, Jemma didn’t see Daisy as a patient for weeks. A few weeks after Daisy was scheduled to have her cast taken off, Jemma saw Daisy sitting in the ER lobby, filling out an intake form while Hunter held an ice pack to his nose. Even from where Jemma was standing, the injury didn’t look serious enough to warrant a visit to the emergency room, but that didn’t stop Bobbi from coming out of nowhere and offering to check him over.

  
Between her rounds of the floor, Jemma stopped by the lobby to chat with Daisy a few times; when not in immense pain, Daisy was a shameless flirt, Jemma learned. After that incident, there was a few weeks where she saw neither Daisy nor Hunter. She tried not to be upset about that fact. Daisy was just a patient, after all.

  
This evening, Jemma actually had work to do. She was finishing up tending to a young man with electrical burns up his arms when Bobbi poked her head in the room.

  
“Jemma, your regulars are here,” she rambled, before darting back out of the room.

  
The man on the table quirked an eyebrow at her. “You have regulars in the ER?” he asked.

  
Jemma sighed. “Surprisingly, yes. I think you’re all set. Your nurse should be back momentarily to discharge you.”

  
Jemma snapped her gloves off and marched towards the lobby, wondering what Daisy had gotten herself into this time.

  
When she reached the lobby, the frown that had settled on Jemma’s face disappeared as she took in the scene.

  
Hunter had one of Daisy’s arms slung around her shoulder and was essentially dragging her through the lobby. Daisy was mostly limp, but had her free hand clamping a blood-soaked T-shirt to her head. Bobbi had already met them and tucked herself to Daisy’s other side to help Hunter carry her to a room.

  
Jemma jumped into action. She quickly looked over the chart showing which rooms were available and dictated a room number to Bobbi and Hunter.

  
“Paperwork,” May barked at Hunter as they passed. Jemma knew not to hold it against her. May had once seen a man come in with an axe embedded in his skull and stared him down without flinching until he filled out the forms.

  
“Got it,” Hunter mumbled. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a photocopy of Daisy’s last form and slapped in on the counter. “I thought I should plan ahead.”

  
The three of them got Daisy into a room and laid her down on the bed. Jemma tugged the bloodied shirt out of Daisy’s hand and tossed it in the biohazard bin, ignoring the indignant sound from Hunter behind her. There was a gash about four inches long above Daisy’s right eyebrow. Jemma grabbed a handful of clean gauze and started packing it onto the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. Daisy seemed a bit delirious, laying on the bed with her eyes squeezed closed and mumbling to herself.

  
“How did she get this one?” Jemma asked Hunter, “Did she fall off another building?”

  
“This one actually wasn’t her fault. Her ex does parkour too and we had the misfortune of running into him in the park. He decided to get in the way of all Daisy’s tricks and, well, this happened,” Hunter explained, peering over Jemma’s shoulder with obvious concern written on his features.

  
Jemma fumed, “You should press charges. This could probably be qualified as assault.”

  
“Not a bad idea, mate.”

  
Jemma turned her attention to Bobbi. “I’m going to need an IV, a possible blood transfusion, and she’s definitely going to need stitches.”

  
“On it,” announced Bobbi and she slipped out of the room.

  
Jemma pulled a small flashlight out of her lab coat. “Daisy? Can you open your eyes?”

  
Daisy obliged reluctantly, but once she saw Jemma, a goofy grin spread across her face.

  
“Daisy, do you know where you are?” Jemma prodded.

  
“Heaven?”

  
Jemma rolled her eyes. “Be serious for a moment, please.” She clicked on her flashlight and pointed it into Daisy’s eyes one at a time. “I’m trying to check you for a concussion and I can’t tell if you’re incoherent or just being difficult as usual.”

  
Daisy just grumbled to herself some more.

  
Bobbi came back at that moment, wheeling a tray of supplies needed for sutures. “Someone should be coming down soon with everything else. I’m assuming she’ll be staying overnight?” she asked.

  
Jemma clicked off her flashlight. “That would probably be for the best. She almost definitely has a concussion, so I’d like to monitor her condition overnight to be safe.”

  
Bobbi nodded. “I’ll go work on the paperwork for that.”

  
“I’ll help,” Hunter offered, “As much fun as it sounds to watch my friend get her head sewed up...well, it doesn’t.”

  
Jemma set to work cleaning the area around the gash on Daisy’s head with alcohol, while Bobbi and Hunter slid out of the room. She pulled the tray closer to her and was reaching for the anesthetic when Daisy groaned loudly.

  
“Stupid Ward. I was being so good, too,” she muttered, “Now, I’ve definitely lost all my chances with the cute doctor. Haven’t I, Hunter?”  
Jemma froze. “Hunter just went to wait in the lobby, but I think Bobbi seems rather infatuated with him.”

  
“What? No, not her. The British one. Doctor Jemma Simmons,” Daisy badly imitated Jemma’s accent when saying her name, “The one with the soft hands who scolds me like my mother every time I see her,” Daisy mumbled, her words slurring slightly.

  
“Maybe you shouldn’t talk too much. You seem a bit out of sorts still and should probably save your energy,” Jemma stated, glad that Daisy couldn't see the blush she felt dusting her cheeks. “This is going to sting.”

  
Jemma injected a small amount of anesthetic into the area around the gash and set to work stitching it up.

  
“You should see her sometime,” Daisy suggested and reached up to try to poke Jemma in the face. Her fine motor skills were a bit lacking, so she ended up jabbing her finger at the air. Jemma leaned out of the way and guided Daisy’s hand back to her side.

  
Despite this small failure, Daisy kept talking. “She’s suuuuper pretty. And smart. And I’m sure she has a cute laugh, even though I’ve never heard it.”

  
Jemma felt her face flush again as she knotted off another stitch.

  
“I’ve got a feeling she doesn’t like me much, though,” Daisy slurred.

  
Jemma raised an eyebrow at that. Quite the contrary, actually. Jemma found Daisy very attractive and, despite her reckless tendencies and dangerous hobbies, she seemed quite sweet. There were many rules in place that prevented doctor-patient relationships and, since Daisy seemed to consistently be her patient, she doubted they could ever work around them.

  
“Oh?” Jemma prompted.

  
“Yeah,” Daisy huffed, “She says I ‘stress her out.’ And she’s always got a little frowny face on when I come in.”

  
“Maybe if you stopped putting your life in danger constantly it wouldn’t stress m— her out and make her life difficult,” Jemma suggested.

  
Daisy hummed in agreement. “Least I have an excuse to see her a lot. Even with the frowny faces and pokey-ness.”

  
Jemma tied off the last stitch and taped a thick piece of gauze over the injury. Daisy seemed to drift off for a moment, so Jemma gently prodded her shoulder to wake her and leaned over the bed so Daisy could see her clearly. Daisy grumbled a bit, but cracked an eye open.

  
“I’m gonna take you up to get an MRI to make sure you don’t have any serious brain injuries, alright?” Jemma inquired.

  
Daisy furrowed her brow in confusion. “Simmons? When did you get here?”

  
“I’ve been here the whole time,” Jemma stated. Might as well be honest.

  
“Ah, okay...wait—”

  
“We’re also going to have you stay the night, just so we can make sure there’s no serious symptoms that come up later,” she continued.   
Despite the fact that Jemma’s shift technically ended half an hour ago, she stayed to supervise the rest of Daisy’s tests and see her settled into her room before clocking out.

  
A small voice in her head kept reminding her that people were usually brutally honest when they had head injuries and/or pain medication in their system, so everything Daisy had said was something she truly thought. That could prove problematic.   
But then again, she wasn’t Daisy’s permanent physician, so they could probably bend the rules a tad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jemma was scheduled for a later shift the next day so, once she got to the hospital, Daisy had already been checked over and sent home. Jemma tried not to be too upset about this and was mostly relieved that there were no further complications. Although, she was sure that whoever had discharged Daisy had not been sufficiently stern with her about discontinuing her hobby while she healed.   
Jemma went about her day as usual. She noticed Bobbi sneaking out her phone to text constantly and didn’t even have to ask whose messages she was smiling at.

  
Jemma was on lunch break when Bobbi poked her head into the break room.

  
“Uh...Jemma,” she started.

  
Jemma looked up from her sandwich with a questioning ‘hm?’ Once she saw Bobbi’s expression, she didn’t even have to wait for a reply.   
“You have got to be kidding me,” Jemma practically shouted, “Twelve hours! It’s been less than twelve hours!”

  
Jemma stomped towards the lobby, still muttering ‘twelve hours…’ under her breath.

  
Her eyes found Daisy almost instantly, standing by the reception desk with one arm behind her back. However, she didn’t appear to be in need of medical attention for once. She wasn’t even wearing her usual black parkour gear, just a simple button up shirt and jeans. Still, Jemma was skeptical.

  
Daisy saw her approach and straightened up, a shaky smile sliding onto her face.

  
“What have you broken this time?” Jemma demanded.

  
“What? Nothing, I just— I, uh,” Daisy trailed off. Suddenly, there was a bouquet of daisies stuck under Jemma’s nose, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t really have a filter on my big mouth yesterday, so I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or made anything awkward.”  
Jemma took the flowers and chuckled. “I don’t think ‘uncomfortable’ is the word I would use.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“More like ‘amused,’” Daisy grimaced. “Or flattered,” Jemma amended with a smile.

  
“Really?” Daisy asked, “Would it be weird if I offered to buy you dinner anyway? As a thank you for continually putting me back together.”  
Jemma pretended to ponder the idea for a moment. “No, that wouldn’t be weird. The only problem is that there are definite boundaries set for doctor-patient relationships. But, as long as you promise not to be my patient again, I think I can accept.”

  
Daisy’s smile lit up the room. “I think I can agree to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure where this idea came from. I just heard the Shawn Mendez song awhile back and somehow this developed out of that. Also, just a disclaimer: I AM NOT A DOCTOR and I have no idea what I'm talking about with most of these procedures/treatments. I did about 10 minutes of research and then just filled in the blanks, so I'm sure that none of these things are actually proper ways to treat anything. Not that I think anyone's going to try treating their injuries using advice from a fanfiction, but you never know.   
> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Check out my writing tumblr yo: sad-trash-writing


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